Every why has a wherefore.

The pleasing punishment that women bear.

Misery makes sport to mock itself.

The fewer men, the greater share of honor.

Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends.

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!

The rain, it raineth every day.